Echo, Chapter 1
by sushiiwilliams
Summary: So everyone this is the first chapter of my stories! hope you all like this add any comments you want :D
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

It was an idea that killed them all.

Every single one of the skeletal corpses. Killed by an idea. It didn't matter who had been the victim of the attack- soldiers' bones lay next to the remains of civilians and children.

Not even the birds would come near this place. To the planet, it was a tragic event. The first victim of a massive war, the scientific city of Manea had been the Rebellion's explosion into the spotlight. Millions had died, watching their own bodies decay until there wasn't enough left to keep them alive. The biological terror unleashed here was unstoppable.

Not a single survivor remained to give an eyewitness account. However, the frantic pleas of dying innocents sent to the other countries terrified everyone. Who were these people, those who would purposely unleash a deadly plague onto a peaceful scientific community?

Of course, many countries' leaders stepped into the media and tried to explain away the atrocity of Manea. They tried so hard to squelch the flow of rumors- but whispers have a way of spreading like wild fire.

Rumors of a rebellion against the united governments grew. World leaders began to disappear, assassinated without mercy. The people grew more paranoid every day. When faced with a faceless enemy, fear runs rampant.

Until the day they made themselves known.

Chapter 1

It was silent. The still air magnified every sound, forcing him to walk excruciatingly slowly. The ashes helped dampen the sound of his feet, but the thought of what exactly he was stepping on made him queasy.

The remains of this small town were a dreary reminder of the state of his planet. Ilo's war was tearing its landscape and its inhabitants apart. He didn't like to think about it, really.

He focused on his goal: reach the medical supplies, wherever they were stored, and safely return to his little group of refugees. He glanced furtively around the area; the Rebellion was rumored to leave guards behind to ensure everyone was dead. He quenched the fiery hatred growing in his gut. Focus on the mission.

After sifting through the ashes of several buildings, he finally found it: a charred box, marked with a green dragon, the symbol of healing. Crouched on the ground, he absentmindedly traced over the etched design. His sister had always wanted to be a medic. The corners of his mud brown eyes creased upwards for a split second. She was always trying to impress him, her older brother. He wondered what she would say if-

Stop. She was dead.

His mind shut down. He immediately stood up and turned to the woods behind him. He must get these supplies back to the others. He began his slow, calculated journey back to the treeline, using the empty buildings as cover. The shadows of dusk help shield him from prying eyes, as well as his natural skill as a hunter.

A small campfire was burning in the middle of the small glade. The forlorn looking group gathered around it, taking comfort in the small amount of heat it offered. Bandaged hands reached out to the dancing flames, enjoying whatever comfort was available in such desolate times.

Towards the back of the group, a young woman with long, matted black hair watched as an older, balding man thrashed in his fevered sleep. A long gash in his leg had become infected, and she knew sepsis would soon set in. Her rough, calloused hands fluttered over the wound, washing and redressing it carefully. He needed medicine badly.

A rustling in the trees ahead of them alerted the group of twelve. Three of them scrabbled for their guns. A man's voice rang out-

"It's alright, just me. I have the supplies."

A collective sigh came from the group. Not a Rebel. The man entered their little grove and gave the box to the woman.

"Thank you, Adish. I was afraid we would never find him medications."

She began sifting through the little box, finally finding a bottle of disinfectant. She removed the injured man's bandage and began rubbing it onto his wound. The man's thrashing became more violent. He cried out, and she gently began redressing his injury.

Adish watched. "I think we should move again tonight."

"Why? Were you detected?"

"No, Achada. I believe we are being tracked."

The woman's hands hesitated over her patient. "And why would you think that?"

"I saw airships flying above the forest, about 4 mikas away. They were searching for something- they kept dipping lower into the trees, and I fear they found our previous campsite."

Terror flitted through the woman, Achada's, eyes. She quickly finished her work, and her patient slowly relaxed.

"How is he?" Adish waved his hand at the man.

"He isn't ready to be moved. His leg-"

"I'm afraid we don't have much of a choice. If we have to, we must leave him."

"I know."

As their sun sank below the horizon, the group doused the fire. The cold night set in on the small and frightened group. An older man named Ekram took the first watch. Adish, tired beyond belief, watched as the two children, five women, and four other men tried to find a passable place to sleep. He glanced at Achada, who was still tending to the fevered man. She turned to him, nodded, and went back to her work. She didn't want to leave this person, and she would do anything to prevent deserting him.

Ekram seemed like he was ready to take watch. Waving to Adish, he reclined against a rock and gazed up at the sky. Adish, finding everything to his liking, decided it was indeed safe enough to sleep.

They were woken by Ekram's frantic yells. The sound of propellers sliced through the still air. They had been discovered. Immediately, Adish and Achada began to herd up the group.

The airship was not upon them yet, but it must have been under one hundred yards away, hovering low, skimming the treeline. Two of the adults grabbed the children and sprinted off into the woods. Adish was pleased. At least the kids wouldn't be tortured or slaughtered.

Achada grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the treeline. He had been too occupied with making sure everyone else was safe- he almost forgot about himself. The medic again tugged on his arm, and this time he followed. They fled into the woods, running in a zig-zag pattern, trying to get away from their pursuers. The pair glanced around, trying desperately to find a place to hide. Suddenly, Achada shoved Amish down. They tumbled into a small trench covered by a thick-leaved bush. Panting heavily, they began the deadly wait.

They heard the airship first. The whirring of the propellers throbbed throughout the night air. The two huddled closer together. The lights came next. The blinding spotlight caused Achada and Adish to wince, not accustomed to the fluorescent lights. It flew almost directly above them. They could almost hear the shouts of the crew on board. They shrank further back into their bush. Finally, after a tense few minutes, the ship flew away.

After the racket of the airship had gone, the two let out a sigh of relief. However, both remained tense, waiting to see if the monstrosity would come around again. After about ten more minutes, they slunk out of the bush and cautiously, slowly, made their way back to the camp.

Achada ran ahead of Adish at the final stretch. At first, he was confused. Why was she so eager? Then, he entered their grove.

Achada stood in the center. She had one hand over her mouth. He noticed her eyes were shining- wait, Achada was trying not to cry? In the six weeks of fleeing the Rebellion, she had not shed a tear. What had upset her so-

Then, he noticed who was missing.

She stood in front of the spot her patient had previously occupied. She had left him, and they had taken him.

"He would have woken up, Adish. He was getting better. His fever was going down! He was going to wake up! They took a sick man! They TOOK my PATIENT."

Her eyes were streaming now. The despair and grief she had held off so long now flooded her mind. She fell to her knees. Adish found himself by her side. They cried together, about the lost loved ones they would never see again. For the cities that had been destroyed. For the lives they no longer had. They cried because they had lost everything worth crying for. And now, they only had each other.

Their fellow refugees slowly creeped back to their little camp. After about three hours, they were missing four people, including a child. After another five hours, only one of the missing members had returned.

Adish's face was drawn. They were down to nine survivors.

"We need to leave, now."

The tiny group seemed like any morale it once had was gone. No one had the will to try and smile. One of the children was gone, probably dead or in pain at that moment. Two of their older members were also gone. It was horrible- almost as bad as the plagues. Slowly, they would all die, or vanish, or become so grievously injured they would be left behind


	2. Chapter 2

The refugees hiked through the forest, the dense foliage impeding their progress. It took them the rest of the daylight hours to walk approximately twelve miles. The group found a cave, made of two rocks jutting at an angle over them. They settled for the night.

Adish studied the remaining survivors. Most of them seemed downcast; then he saw Ekram.

The man hadn't been coping with the raid well. He blamed himself for the loss of the other survivors. His tired gray eyes wouldn't look up from the ground, and his shoulders were slumped. The man was the image of depression.

Another survivor, a woman called Gersemi, took notice and sat next to him. The woman, being the second oldest survivor under Ekram, was around thirty-six.

"Hey, it wasn't your fault, y'know. They came out of nowhere."

Ekram's head snapped up and met the woman's eyes. She smiled tentatively at him, and he turned back to the ground.

"I didn't see them, and now three of us are dead. I have their blood on my hands."

Gersemi paused, thought for a moment, then grabbed his hands and slid his gloves off.

"Hey, what do you think you're-"

She turned his hands over, and traced over his palms, pretending to search for something.

"Hmm. That's funny, I don't see anything on your hands. No blood. Maybe you have something smudged on your glasses."

She tossed his gloves at him and stood up, heading back over to her fellow refugees. Adish shot her a grateful look. She simply smiled and ran her fingers through her short black hair.

The next day, the group packed their meager belongings and started, once again, on their trek through the jungle. Ekram, always the loner in their group, hesitated before sidling over to Gersemi, who greeted him warmly.

The refugees traveled in silence, casting wary looks into the shadowy foliage. Natural predators were as much of a danger as the Rebellion. The silence grew unbearable. Suddenly, Achada started to sing. A few of the others recognized it, and sang along. Eventually, the whole group was singing and laughing to the tune, and for once in a long time, were enjoying themselves.

It's such a sad thing that happy moments can't last forever.

The trees were thinning. It was hard to notice at first, but now light filled almost all the space around them. The only remaining child- a girl, still small enough to be carried in someone's arms, looked up and tried to smile, but the bandage encasing most of her face only permitted her a little grin. It was her one uncovered eye that expressed her joy.

The small little group finally broke free of the tree line. Stepping forward into an open meadow, there was no movement in the group. Suddenly, Gersemi grabbed the little girl- Mina, she said her name was- and began laughing, spinning around the opening. She grabbed Ekram, and together they danced across the field. Achada and Adish joined them, and soon everyone was twirling around the meadow. They didn't know what was going to happen to them, but they were alive. The future was clouded, but it was better than their all too clear past.

They would never give up.

They didn't notice the columns of smoke immediately. No, they noticed the faint explosions first. Achada and Ekram sprinted to the top of the hill and froze in horror. There was a town below them.

Smoke rose snakelike from the town square. Explosions rocked the outskirts. Faint screams could be heard- screams of the dying, sick, and hopeless. The Sickness had been released upon the town, along with the Rebellion's wrath. Those who tried to escape were ensnared by explosions, shrapnel shredding them unmercifully.

Achada and Ekram tore themselves away from the sickening sight. They raced back to their group. Adish saw the lack of color in their faces, the expressions of fear. He knew.

"Adish, we need to get out of here. Let's go back into the woods, or towards the mountains. We can't stay anywhere near here." Ekram was frantic. It was too much like their old town.

All of their joy was gone. There was nothing to be happy about anymore. The town had reminded them.

They walked miles that day. The mountains were far to the west, but they needed a goal. Something to motivate them. Living was no longer good enough of a motivation.

Then, they found the children.

They were sitting alone under the shade of a lonely tree. One had her arms wrapped around the other. No one else was in sight.

The oldest could not have been over thirteen. She had dark rings under her eyes, and her wild green eyes were filled with terror. The boy lying in her arms was unmoving. His face was turned towards the girl's stomach; they couldn't see his face, but judging by his size, he couldn't have been older than four.

She studied them from her spot, as still as a statue. Her arms tightened around the boy.

Achada slowly moved towards her. The girl recoiled, hissing.

The woman stopped, then resumed her careful advance forwards.

The girl glared at Achada under her matted hair. She was dragging the boy back now, away from the woman.

Achada's heart sank as she noted the trail of blood following the younger child. The girl saw her staring at her companion, and she tugged at him frantically, trying to get away from Achada. Then, the boy's head lolled back, and Achada saw.

She saw the flesh on his once chubby face had turned a dark green mottled with purple. She saw the sores around the boy's neck that had burst open, saw the shoulders that looked like ground meat. She saw everything. She saw the unseeing eyes, the empty, expressionless eyes, and the jerky flailing of his arms, on which the skin had split open, releasing a steady trickle of blood.

Achada stumbled back, horror filling her heart. It was the Sickness. They both had it; the girl wasn't showing signs yet, but she would eventually.

The boy would probably live for a few more hours. The girl had a day before her signs appeared.

A member of their group stepped forward. Idris. The man's face was grave. He approached Adish.

"You know what we must do. We cannot allow them to infect anyone else. It will end their suffering sooner."

Adish glanced up at the giant of a man. Idris met Adish's gaze with his own. His grey eyes betrayed no emotion. He was right; they all knew. Yet, no one was willing to kill this strange girl and her dying brother.

Idris' sister, Arvid, stepped forward. The short woman was wiry, and was perhaps the most experienced fighter in their little group. She carried her rapier and at least two pistols on her person at all times, and her cold, unfeeling eyes showed no feeling. The two had nothing in common besides their olive skin, but were capable of holding their own.

" I will dispose of the children."


	3. Chapter 3

Arvid rummaged through the pack she kept strapped to her side. Slowly, she pulled out a scope. Attaching it to one of her pistols, she raised it to her face. Looking through the scope, she saw a closer view of the rotting flesh. Without hesitating, she pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang out, and the small boy stopped twitching as blood oozed from a hole in his head.

The girl gave an unearthly shriek. She gently lowered the boy to the ground and stood. She began to lurch towards Arvid, a fiery hatred burning in her eyes. She stumbled, her arms reaching out towards the woman. The piercing green eyes never left the her face.

Once again, Arvid raised the gun. Just as she pulled the trigger, the girl stumbled. The bullet hit her in the side, and she fell to the ground, screaming and sobbing. Arvid pulled the trigger once more. The shot rang in the field, and all was silent. The deed was done.

The group stared at the small bodies. There would be no burial; they would be contaminated. The birds wouldn't bother them anyway.

Idris walked over to Arvid and placed a hand on her shoulder; she promptly shrugged it off and placed her pistol back into its holster.

"We shouldn't have wasted that ammo. They were going to die anyway."

Idris recoiled. "Arvid. You just shot two children. Aren't you bothered by that?"

Her icy eyes met his chocolate brown ones. "You act as if I should be a sobbing wreck. I do not care for those already doomed to die. Neither should you."

She walked away from him. He stared, disgust obvious on his face.

Adish walked over; the man was pale, and he stared at the body of the girl. Her eyes were still open, but they no longer gleamed. They were as dull as wax, and it was horrible.

Idris turned to him. "I never really knew my sister; it's why I was in the city. My father asked me to evaluate her mental state. Now I know why he was worried."

The refugees slowly walked across the field. Many of them were crying; it reminded them too much of relatives they had lost to the war. Ekram walked to Gersemi's side. She had been crying.

"Um, hi Gersemi. I don't know if I ever thanked you for helping me after that airship raid. I just...er, wanted to let you know that, um, I'm here if ya ever need someone to talk to..."

She raised her eyes to his. "Thanks, Ekram. It's just-"

She paused. Tears sprang to her eyes, and Ekram fluttered his hands around her, not sure what to do. "You don't have to talk about it, you know."

Gersemi looked up at him and gave him a watery smile. "No, it's all right. I needed to talk to someone anyway. My daughter-"

She paused.

"My daughter and I were in the town square when it started. Before they dropped the Sickness, that is. The airship hovered right above the center of the town square, only about twenty yards from us. Ekram, the troops poured out of it. They just started shooting- everything, everyone, anything that moved. My daughter and I ran, and I turned a corner into an old alleyway, but my daughter wasn't there with me. I looked back out, and I saw her, laying in the street, with a hole in her back. She was lying in a pool of her own blood-"

She began to sob, and Ekram slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"She wasn't dead, though. She looked up at me, and saw me. And I started to run towards her. And then, I saw her eyes die. She just... went out like a light. She was gone forever, my daughter, Bern. She was only twelve. They took her away from me."

Ekram looked down at her. "I wish I could understand what you're going through. I never knew any of my family, and I've always been a loner. I lost nothing back there, but I'm rather glad of it now."

Gersemi nodded, and said, "I hope you realize you do now. We're all a family, now."

The group finally reached the end of the glade and came upon another forest, this one much denser than the previous. They were almost to the foothills of the mountains; this was their last obstacle. They began forward.

Adish walked beside Achada in the very back of the group.

"Achada, I'm worried. I think one of us is a spy."

Achada glanced at him incredulously. "A spy? Adish, why would you think that?"

"It's just... like in the woods. How did the Rebellion find us? Our old campsite was in the forest. There is no way they could have found that in an airship."

"Adish, if there was a spy, why aren't we dead now?"

"Maybe...maybe it wants to see where we go. Or how we survived. Or... I don't know, Achada. I just think one of us is... not right."

Several days later, they hadn't made much progress. The underbrush constantly tangled and ensnared their legs. It was like walking in slow motion; they hadn't even walked ten miles. Nothing of interest happened until the tenth day inside the forest.

They had made camp for the night; a small fire blazed, surrounded by the nine remaining refugees. One in particular, Xanthus, was fidgety. Xanthus was only seventeen. His golden hair gleamed in the flickering light of the fire. He was bored. Eventually, he rose and walked over to Adish, who was conversing with Achada.

"Adish, I'm going to scout ahead a bit. I'm going to go insane if I don't have anything to do soon."

"Sure, but you might want to ask Arvid for a gun. I don't want you wandering around alone. Do you have anyone who wants to go with you?"

Achada stood. "I'll go with him, Adish. I wouldn't mind some scouting, myself. We'll be back soon."

Adish nodded. "Be careful out there; watch for predators. I don't know much about the animals around here."

Xanthus warily approached Arvid. Ever since the incident with the chidren, everyone had been treating her like a monster. She didn't seem to care; in fact, Xanthus wondered if she even had the capacity to care.

"Arvid, I kind of need to borrow a gun. Achada and I are going to scout ahead-"

She thrust a pistol into his hands. He fumbled around and almost dropped it. Glancing back at her, he found himself meeting her steely gaze.

"Don't you dare waste my bullets. As far as I'm concerned, I could care less about what happens to you or the medic. If you damage that gun, I will kill you."

She then ceased acknowledging his presence, and raised her cold eyes to the stars.

Xanthus and Achada were just about to leave when the last member of their group sprinted over to them. Her name was Oriole. She was a fragile little thing, only sixteen. Her pale, almost white hair and light, light green eyes separated her from the rest of the group. She was from the Northern regions, and not much was known about her.

Xanthus hesitated. He really did not want too many people along for the trip; noise would attract predators. He opened his mouth to say no when Achada interrupted.

"Of course you can come. Let's move out."

The trio headed into the woods. After walking in a companionable silence for a half hour, they burst into a small little glade. There was a thin, burbling stream running across the small space. It would have been beautiful if the stream hadn't been red.

The three glanced at each other and began to sprint alongside the stream. Following it, they re-entered the forest and, a few yards away, spotted someone lying in the water.

Oriole started to walk towards the person before Achada grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back.

"Achada, he's bleeding! Look-"

"Oriole, think. We have no idea who that man is. He could have the Sickness for all we know. He might even be a Rebellion soldier."

Xanthus agreed with Achada. Why risk their lives for someone they didn't know? Still...

"Achada, I'm going to get closer. Do you want to come?"

The medic hesitated. He could be sick... it was clear he was injured, though...he couldn't hurt her in that state... she bit her lip. "Fine. Don't get too close, though. Oriole, I want you to stay here."

The girl nodded, and the other two made their way over to the man. Staying several feet back, Achada studied him. There was a huge gash on his side. The man's face was already white and waxy from blood loss. His lips moved, as if he were trying to talk to someone. Sweat beaded on his brow. Achada quirked her head. He didn't look like he had the Sickness; then again, you couldn't tell on the first day. Where had he come from?

Achada gestured for Oriole to come over. The girl, upon seeing the wound, put a hand to her face and looked away.

"Oriole, I need you to tell Adish we have to stay put for a few days. We found someone, and I mean to care for him. I just need to make sure he doesn't have the Sickness. Take Xanthus with you and head back to the camp. May I have the gun?"

Xanthus tossed the weapon over to the medic, and the pair ran off into the woods, leaving Achada alone with the stranger.

She was not sure what to do. If she didn't tend to that wound soon, he would die of blood loss. However, she didn't know if he had the Sickness.

Then, he opened his eyes.

His cracked, dry lips tried to form a word.

"P...please...I..."

Achada found herself by his side in the stream. Forget the Sickness. She was a medic; she would help her patients at any cost. She took her pack off of her back and pulled out some sterilization spray and bandages.

She stripped him of his shirt and sprayed the gash. He cried out, and Achada stopped for a moment. She began to sing a quiet song, and he closed his eyes. She started to spray the wound again, and he tensed. She sang a bit louder, and the man finally relaxed. She started to bandage his side when the crashing of branches announced Adish's arrival.

"I can't believe this. Achada, who is he? Are you sure he's safe to-"

"Adish, even if he wasn't , I would not leave him to die."

Horror filled Adish's face. Mental images of Achada dying flitted through his head. "Achada, no. No. How could you do this? Get away from him, now!"

The medic looked up at him, and simply shook her head. "If he is infected, it is already too late for me. I will stay here and tend to this man. You will know if I am sick in a day. Come back then."

Adish's face drained of all emotion. "Very well. I only assumed you cared for us. I will go back and tell the others we may have lost our only medic."

With that, he turned and made his way back to the camp.


	4. Chapter 4

He was screaming inside. How could she do this to us? To ME? I can't lose the only medic- No, I can't lose Achada. She's the only thing keeping me from going insane.

He was reminded once again of the sister he would never see. Would Achada be seeing her soon?

No, no, no. Don't think that way. Just...just go back to the camp and say everything is all right. The gods know they don't need any more bad news.

The man's wound was completely bandaged. Achada had dragged him onto the grassy bank of the stream. He was resting now. He hadn't stirred since she had finished spraying the wound.

Achada was looking through his pack now. Funny. A month ago, this would have been considered "creepy" or "strange". Now, it's just a precaution.

She had found some interesting artifacts. The man carried several guns with him, and his pack was filled with rations- they almost looked like military rations. She pulled out a few throwing knives, and noticed he had grenades strapped to his belt. Achada gathered all of the weapons and hid them under a bush a few yards away. She didn't want him grabbing something and killing her as soon as he woke up.

She was almost done going over his belongings when she found a small, black book at the bottom of the bag. She opened it, and was rewarded with the man's diary. Inscribed on the inside cover was Property of Gwilym Corecear of the Dragon Battalion.

Her heart plummeted. Battalion? He must be a member of the Rebellion. Still...

She opened the page to the latest entry.

The General has ordered us to search for any survivors of the last raid. Those monsters decimated that entire town, and we don't know why. Usually ,they have a goal, but it seems like this attack was completely random. There was no motive. Those Rebellion sons of a-

Never mind, I can't write like that, I'll just end up furious.

No word on the refugee group that fled from Wefal several weeks ago. We think they've died, but you can never be sure.

This mission should be a successful one...I hope...

Achada closed the book. He was not with the Rebellion, but he was with some kind of military force. She studied his face again. He looked to be only in his mid thirties. He had a large scar running along his neck, as if someone had tried to slit it from behind and failed. He was in good physical shape. He had a typical military buzz cut, but she could tell his hair was black.

She had no idea how long it would take for him to wake up. It was still dark out; she pulled an old shirt out of her pack, laid it out on the ground a few yards away from him, and fell asleep.

She woke the next morning. Her patient hadn't moved, and she wasn't sick. She cried out with joy. She had made the right choice!

She examined her patient. The wound had stopped bleeding, but she redressed the bandages anyway. Just as she was finishing up, his hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. She yelled in surprise and tried to shake him off. He seemed to realize he was scaring her, and released her.

Achada backed away. "Who are you?"

The man cracked open his dark green eyes. "..Not going...to hurt you..."

Achada slowly walked back towards him. "What is your name?"

"Gwylim...I am Gwylim..."

"Well, Gwylim, I'm Achada. I'm going to take care of you."

"Thank...you..."

He sank back into unconsciousness. Achada breathed a sigh of relief. She checked his temperature. The man's fever had gone down, but was still there. She grabbed an old rag from her pack and dipped it into the cool stream water. She washed his face off and managed to get him to drink some.

After she was sure he'd be all right for a while, she reclined against a tree and fell asleep.

Adish was still furious. Their only medic seemed to think it was just fine to leave the group for some stranger. After telling everyone else Achada was preoccupied with...something...he collapsed by the fire and buried his head in his hands. It seemed no one really was dedicated to the group other than himself. Sure, Gersemi helped him out a lot, but she was usually busy talking to Ekram or something.

Adish felt alone for the first time in a while. He considered Achada his only true friend in their group, and now, he wasn't sure anymore.

Stop whining, she's just doing what she was trained to do...his subconscious whispered. He considered it for a moment, before telling his subconsciousness to shut the hell up and go away.

When Achada awoke, the man was sitting up with his back leaning against a tree. His eyes were closed, and he had his legs stretched out in front of him.

Achada slowly sat up. The man opened his eyes. They stared at each other a few seconds before he sighed.

"I'm afraid I don't recall if you told me your name."

Achada relaxed a bit. "I'm Achada."

"Greetings, Achada. I believe I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing, I was merely doing my job."

Another awkward silence.

"Tell me, Achada, are there any more people here other than you?"

Achada hesitated. "You aren't a member of the Rebellion, correct?"

He nodded. "I'm a member of the Invictus. We are the resistance. Together, we fight against the terror of the Rebellion. I am known as Lieutenant General Corecear. I serve directly under our second in command, the Commander. Our General, or leader, is an honorable man. I am glad to serve under him and fight these Rebellion dogs..."

He started to cough, grabbing his side. Achada was next to him, now. Hope was returning to her life. A resistance? Could they still be saved?

Another wave of coughing hit Corecear. Quickly, Achada dug through her pack and pulled out her last throat lozenge. He popped it in his mouth, and his coughing gradually ceased.

"My turn for a question. Achada, are there more of you? I was sent on a rescue mission with a dozen others to find survivors of the recent attack. However, we still had rumors that a group of twelve escaped from Wefat-"

"Only nine, now. Three were taken by a Rebellion airship."

"But there are others?"

"No, I just said nine to smash all your hopes when I said it was just me. Yes, there are others."

"This is amazing! We've never heard of so many survivors in one raid!" He was smiling now, his coarse face aglow with happiness. Achada couldn't tell how old the man was, but he did have laugh lines around his eyes. Surely, he couldn't be older than thirty-five.

"Would you rather have me call you Gwilym or Corecear?"

He froze. "You know my first name?"

"You told it to me during your fever, actually. I'll call you Corecear if you prefer that.

"Yes, please. My first name brings back rather unpleasant memories."

"I understand."

It had been two days. Adish began the journey back to Achada's stream. He dreaded what he would find.

As he neared her little camp, he heard laughter. Relief filled him. She was all right. Then, he heard the other man's gruff, low voice. He was alive? That had been a rather nasty wound.

Adish finally reached them. Achada was roasting a small animal over a fire, and the man was reclining against a tree.

"Achada."

She looked up and smiled at Adish. "I told you I would be all right."

Adish tentatively smiled back before joining her at the fire. Turning towards the other man, he asked, " And you are?"

"Lieutenant General Corecear, at you service. I take it you are a friend of Achada's?"

Adish nodded. "I'll let you live since Achada seems to trust you. Could you explain who you are and why you were laying half dead in a stream?"

Corecear stretched, stood shakily (to Achada's protests), and walked over to the fire. Sitting next to the medic, he repeated what he had told her before.

"My mission was to find survivors, and I almost found you all before. My team found one of your old camps, and followed you from there. During our trip, we were attacked by a pack of diars, a vicious four-legged animal that has a long, whip-like tail. We scattered, and I circled around the forest before my pursuer finally caught me. I shot it in the stomach, but before it finally died, it managed to swipe at my side. I stumbled along, trying to get back to everyone else, before I eventually collapsed in the stream. The next thing I remember was waking up after Achada had finished bandaging my side."

Adish nodded. "Do you have a way to contact your group?"

Corecear raised his arm. Achada had left his gauntlets on, and he examined them. "Well, this is a wrist com-link, and it seems like the water shorted it out. I have a flare, but everyone can see a flare. I think our best bet is to try and fix the comm. Do you have any techies in your group?"

Adish turned to Achada. "Isn't Gersemi a technological designer?"

Achada nodded. "She specializes in designing A.I., but she should be able to fix a comm."

Adish stood up. "I'm going to bring the rest of the group over. We need to replenish our water supply, and it would probably be easier than moving Corecear."

With that, he turned and disappeared into the woods.

The other refugees made it to the creek safely, and curiously studied Corecear. The man was still recovering from his injuries, but his fever was completely gone. He casually reclined against a tree, his dark green eyes surveying the group.

Gersemi was the first to approach him directly. "I was told you have a comlink in need of fixing?"

Corecear straightened a bit, then slid his left gauntlet off. "I hope you are indeed as good at fixing things as Achada assures me you are."

Gersemi took it from him and looked it over. "Well, it looks like the components were shorted out by the water. I think I should be able to fix it. Give me a few hours, and I'll see what I can do." Smiling, she and Ekram both walked away from the group, sitting in a place a dozen meters away.

Corecear turned towards Adish. "I would like to know more about the nature of your survival. How is it that you all made it this far?"

Adish paused before replying. "We all were outside of the gates when the airships came. Out in the fields. It was early in the morning, before most had gotten out of bed. The merchants used to set up their stalls outside of the city, for more room. Smart customers generally join them before the sun comes up. That morning, it wasn't any different. However, just before the sun rose, the roar of the airships awakened those in the city. We saw the first bomb drop directly over the town center. We heard the first screams.

Pandemonium broke loose. There were people who ran back to the gates, screaming the names of family members still inside. They were the first ones shot by the ground troops. The smart ones- we ran towards the forests surrounding the town. We didn't know there were gunmen in the trees. There must have been a thousand of us at the treeline. There were only fifty at the end of the woods. Most of them formed a large group, to try and forge on together. A few of us split off- that would be our group. We parted ways, and were mocked for it. Our group walked a mile before once again being enveloped by trees. That's when the airships returned.

They easily found the larger group. We watched from the darkness of the forest as they were gunned down, the children taken for gods knows what. I fear their fate. Later, the airships found us and took three. We continued walking and found another bombed town. Then, we were forced to kill two infected children. That's our story."

Corecear leaned back. "That is an impressive feat, my friend. I admire you all for your outstanding resilience. You would all make fine members of Invictus."

Xanthus jerked his head up. "Excuse me? Who said we were going to join your group?"

"No one said you had to. I was just stating a fact. We DO have a wonderful community for civilians, for those of you who would rather live a more quiet life for a while."

Xanthus backed down. "Okay. I just don't want to sign up for something I know nothing about."

Corecear nodded. "If your friend manages to get the com working, you'll see our headquarters soon."

Adish still didn't trust the man.

He glanced over at the sleeping form of the soldier. For all they knew, he could be a member of the Rebellion. He was still convinced one of their group was a spy. Perhaps he was just being paranoid- but he had been paranoid about traveling in a large group, as well. Adish always followed his gut feeling.

Another scathing glance was sent to the sleeping figure of the man. How DARE he practically take over Adish's group! Adish, who had worked so hard to provide for them. The worst thing was most of them already accepted Corecear's authenticity. Especially Achada.

Just the thought of her trust in the man caused him to inhale sharply in disgust. He thought she was his friend. Apparently, she was perfectly fine with deserting him. Adish had cared for her the most, and now he was being cast aside. Let her act like that. He didn't need her.

He didn't need anyone.

Hey everyone! I don't think I've left an author's note anywhere yet, so hi! I'm Darth Jedi, and thanks for reading so far!

I really appreciate reviews, feedback motivates me to update more often and helps me improve my writing.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Corecear woke to someone violently shaking his shoulder.

"Corecear! I fixed your comm! You've gotta get up. Now!"

The military officer sat up and rubbed his eyes before having the com handed to him by Gersemi. He slid the gauntlet back onto his wrist and tapped a few buttons on the side. Almost instantly, static came through the small speaker built into the device.

He looked up, grinning, at Gersemi. "You did it! I can get us out of here now."

The refugees were overjoyed at the news. Xander scooped up Oriole and twirled around with her in his arms as she laughed. Ekram and Gersemi took Mina's small hands and danced with her. Idris swept Achada up in an embrace, the usually stoic man overtaken by the emotion of the moment. Arvid simply sat on a log and polished one of her pistols.

Corecear was content just to watch how happy the group was. This was why he had joined the Invictus. To give the wronged their lives back.

Eventually, everyone calmed down and gathered around Corecear to listen in on his request for transport.

Pressing a button on the gauntlet, he waited until the static returned. Then, he tapped a code into the system and waited. Soon, someone answered.

It was a rough, scratchy voice due to the feedback, but it was clearly feminine. "Identify yourself."

Corecear responded, " This is Lieutenant General Corecear of the Folium battalion. The passcode is verus. I am surrounded by friendlies. No enemies in sight. Requesting transport for myself and nine others."

There was a pause on the end of the line before the voice replied, "It is a pleasure to find you alive, Lieutenant General. I am curious as to the origins of the nine others."

"Survivors of the bombing of Lefat. They are ready for evacuation, as am I."

"What is your current location?"

Corecear looked up at the sun, and took note of its position against the mountains far ahead of them. He rattled off a few landmark names, and waited for the delayed response.

"I will send airships to retrieve you in less than an hour. Do you still have a flare?"

After a nod from Achada, he said he did.

"Prepare for retrieval."

"Thank you, Commander.

"I expect to see you before midday. Good work locating the survivors. I will question you on your mission upon your return. Commander signing off."

Their meager collection of belongings was packed and ready to go. Achada finally returned all of Corecear's weapons back to him from under the bush she had stashed them. He picked out his flare and they set off for the nearest hill, about a mile away.

Adish seethed the entire time. What the Hell were they getting themselves into? Achada and Idris were suddenly friends, now, too? What was wrong with everyone? Were they all insane?

He refused to speak to anyone, withdrawing into his simmering thoughts of hatred and jealousy. His young face creased with disgust. He didn't have to go with them, but where else did he have to go? The woods were almost uninhabitable in the winter, and in the summer, were unbearably hot. Now, in the prime of spring, it was around seventy degrees, but the torrential rain towards the end of the season would probably be his death.

No, he would continue on with the rest of them. He couldn't do anything else. Hopefully, if things turned out badly, he would be the one to shoot Corecear straight between his malicious green eyes.

Then, they would all see.

The refugees reached the hill a few hours before noon. Scanning the skies, they waited for the airship to arrive.

It was Mina who saw it first. Her bandaged face prevented her from being loud, but she ran over to Idris and pulled on his knee. Looking down at the girl from his immense height, he jerked his gaze to the spot in the sky she was frantically pointing at. The airship was dipping down now, skimming the treetops in search of them.

Idris jogged over to Corecear. In his deep, baritone voice, he exclaimed, "The ship has arrived! When are you going to shoot the flare?"

"Probably as soon as the ship turns this way. We only have one flare, so we can't waste it."

The group watched the airship as it turned, heading towards them. Corecear struck a match and lit the flare's fuse, watching as it shot up into the sky and exploded into a blood red orb which floated above their location. The ship adjusted its flight, and made its way straight towards them. Soon, it was so close, the group could feel the wind from the propeller blades.

That's when Corecear realized it wasn't one of the Invictus's airships.

He shouted, "Duck!" and flattened Mina under him. The airship unloaded a dozen soldiers and flew higher up. Arvid pulled out her pistols and tossed one to Idris. Achada fearfully grabbed her only remaining medical tool: a scalpel. She was trained to heal, not kill.

Corecear stood and tossed the girl on her side, and she rolled down the hill to scramble into the brush. He then readied his rifle and found he was out of grenades.

The soldiers were armed with automatic weapons, and were trained from childhood not to value human lives. Their cold eyes and ice blue uniforms intimidated the group. These were the people they had been running from for weeks.

The soldiers stepped forward, and one dropped dead. A hole between his eyes trickled blood from Arvid's shot. The others quickly loaded their weapons in unison and fired.

There was little cover on the hill- just small trees and a boulder here and there. Most of the refugees made it behind shelter in time, but Oriole was hit in the back at the base of her spine. She fell screaming to the ground, blood already soaking through the back of her shirt.

Achada watched in horror from a nearby boulder as the young girl thrashed on the ground. She saw Xanthus, across from her, start towards Oriole. She frantically signaled for him to go back to the tree he hid behind, but he darted out and dragged the girl back, getting shot in the calf in the process. He clutched the wound, biting his lip to keep from screaming that it began to bleed.

Corecear and Adish were returning fire along with Idris and Arvid. The only soldier casualty had been Arvid's shot. They were already low on ammo, while the enemy had small boxes of it attached to their belts. Things were not looking good.

Adish's eyes glanced from the soldiers to Corecear's face. It would be an easy shot- it would look like a soldier's shot to everyone else. Just one quick movement of his finger...

And the other man ducked just as Adish took his shot. The bullet glanced off the boulder Corecear was taking shelter behind. He turned to give Adish a shocked look before shouting, "TURN AROUND!"

Adish turned in time to see a rifle before it smashed into his face. He fell unconscious to the ground. Corecear quickly fired, killing the soldier. He whirled back to face the others. It was practically hopeless.

She had been watching the attack helplessly, without a ranged weapon to use. Her scalpel was clutched tightly in her hand. Achada had never been so scared before in her life. Then, a gloved hand swiftly clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream for help, but couldn't make a sound. She hesitated, then twisted her arm around and stabbed her captor in the stomach with the scalpel. She twisted the medical instrument deep into his abdoment. His grip weakened, and Achada pushed him off. It was a Rebellion soldier clad in blue. He was gurgling strangely now. Achada kneeled over him, horrified. He locked his eyes onto hers, and she saw a flicker of a human emotion- fear. Then, he was dead. She had killed someone.

All hope was almost lost when the Invictus airship finally arrived. Roaring down upon the opposing soldiers, several people clad in green jumped out of the ship. They forced the Rebellion troops down the hill, foot by foot, as the medics loaded the refugees onto the airship.

The airship once again shot off, flying as quickly as possible. The Rebellion ship was nowhere in sight.

Medics were swarming around Oriole and Adish. The girl wasn't screaming anymore- she had passed out not too long ago. Adish wasn't moving.

Blood spattered the metal floor. It had been a bloody battle, and a few soldiers were missing from the Invictus forces. As things began to settle, the troops relaxed a bit and saluted Corecear. He returned the gesture.

Nina's face was free from her bandage, but it wasn't healing well. There was a large slash running down one side of her face just barely missing her eye. The small girl was quickly becoming a favorite among the medical staff. She never stopped smiling, and loved to laugh. She spotted Corecear and gave him a gleeful wave. Grinning a bit himself, he waved back.

Turning, he made his way through the airship. It was quite a large airship, large enough to provide living spaces to around fifty people. Pacing down the narrow hallways, he eventually found Achada sitting alone, gazing out a porthole window.

He hesitantly took a seat next to her on the ground. She held her knees against her chest and was resting her head on them. Her dark almond eyes were shut. Corecear noticed her face was red and blotted.

"Achada, are you alright? You haven't spoken to anyone since the hilltop battle."

She jerked around to face him, then relaxed. "I killed someone, Corecear. I twisted his intestines around with a scalpel."

Understanding dawning in his eyes, and he wrapped a scarred arm around the small woman. "Achada, I remember my first kill. It was during the very beginning of the war. Commander and I- well, she wasn't commander then, but she was still my superior- we were on one of our first missions together. I was a rookie. She had about a year's worth of experience with killing. I didn't see the man until he lunged at her.

She dodged him, but couldn't stop him from attacking me. As she turned to help me, I shot the man at point blank range in the head. Achada, the blood spattered all over me. I don't remember much after that- but I do remember that Commander helped by talking me through the horrible experience. I hope I can do that for you now."

Achada turned and faced him, her eyes streaming. "Thank you, Corecear. I truly appreciate that."

Adish finally woke up.

Furious.

The man had seen him try to kill him, hadn't he? Surely, they would all hate him now. Even her. He tried to sit up, but was hit with an intense wave of pain that overcame his weak attempts. He collapsed back onto his pillow. Adish couldn't remember his head ever hurting like this before.

Groaning, he finally earned someone's attention. A nurse rushed over.

"Easy, there. You have a nasty injury, and your head is badly injured. You had a concussion."

Closing his eyes, he tried to gather his thoughts. Were they at the base yet? Or were they still on the wretched airship?

Against the nurse's protests, he gathered up all of his willpower and sat up. The world seemed to spin around him. Clutching his head, he staggered to his feet, standing at his intimidating height of six foot five. The nurse was now thoroughly alarmed.

"Sir, sit down now. You are injured, and need more medical attention."

The world was a blur around him. Her words seemed to echo in his head, each syllable like a club being beaten against the sides of his skull. He teetered, then collapsed on the floor.

He wouldn't wake up for a while.

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